5050
by ImpalaLove
Summary: Set in 7x02, so spoilers. An alternate version to the warehouse scene where Dean tries to convince Sam that he's real. I don't know why I wrote this. Jeez. CHAPTER 2 ADDED.
1. Chapter 1

**Takes place at the end of 7x02 in that abandoned warehouse where Dean tries to convince Sam he's real. This is an alternative to that scene, so I've messed with the dialogue a bit. **

**50/50**

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I have a fifty-fifty shot.

The two Deans stare at me, waiting for me to snap out of it. Waiting for me to figure out which of them is real. I don't remember how I ever thought it was a good idea to let things get this bad. I don't remember the exact moment I lost my grip on reality. All I know is that I'm too far gone now. It's too late to bring me back, no matter how hard my big brother tries.

Because I don't even know if he exists anymore.

The gun wavers in my hand, and both Deans tense at the same time. Their movements are eerily similar, both expressions filled with love and just a hint of fear. It's the exact expression I'd expect him to be wearing right now. And I can't choose between the two. I don't know which one is genuine. The one beside me lets out a long, sad sigh.

"Come on Sammy," he says, "It's me okay? It's Dean. Let's get you home. Please." He grabs for my coat, but I whirl away from him, swinging the gun towards him and raising it to his chest. I know I won't miss.

The only question is, if I pull the trigger, who will I kill? Lucifer? Or is it really Dean?

Is any of this even real at all?

The gun shakes, and I realize it's because I'm trembling. Dean-number-two, the one closest to the entrance of the warehouse, takes a step towards me now.

"Come on. You don't know what's real?" He asks. "Look man I've been to Hell. Okay, I know a thing or two about torture. Enough to know that it feels different than the pain of this regular, stupid, crappy...this..."

"No...no how can you know that for sure?" I blurt out, hating the way my voice breaks on the words. Hating how weak I sound.

"Sammy?" Dean-number-one asks, cutting across Dean-number-two as if he can't hear the same words I can. "Please Sam, you gotta believe me man. There's no one there. Come on Sammy. Let me take you home." He grabs for my arm again, and this time I don't resist as much. I realize there's a reason he's talking over the continued pleading of Dean-number-two. It's because Dean-number-two_ isn't real._

"Sam, lemme see your hand," Dean-number-two orders, holding out his own.

_You're not real. I know you're not real. _

I smile.

The shot rings out like a firecracker, reverberating around the room as it hits its target. I turn to face the Dean who stands beside me, the _real_ one. I've done it. I've finally done it. It should be over now.

"I did it Dean, I think he's really g..."

I watch as the man I knew to be my brother wavers before me, shimmering like a projection. His smile is wicked now, a grin my real brother has never worn. Horrified, I watch as he molds into the form of the Devil himself.

And then he disappears completely.

I stare at the space where he was, where _Dean_ was, waiting for him to come back to me. To tell me that this is all just a joke. Because I know, I _know_ my brother. And he was there. _Right there._ But the space in front of me is still empty. _Nonononono._

I turn back to face Dean-number-two. The one who now falls to his knees, blood seeping steadily from beneath his shaking fingers. I watch as red pools around him, mesmerized by the hollow sound each drop makes as it hits the concrete. Finally, my eyes are drawn to his face, the one contorted in pain. He stares at me, disbelieving. But there's something else there too, something in his expression. Behind the pain and the sadness and the betrayal, I see forgiveness. I see _Dean_.

_Oh God. What have I done? _

I sprint for my brother, my footsteps pounding across the concrete in time with the panicked drum of my heartbeat. The sound fills my ears, makes it impossible to focus on all but one thing.

"DEAN!?"

A fifty-fifty shot, and I chose wrong.

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**I'm stopping there because I'm evil. Also because it allows you to decide whether or not Dean survives. Wow I'm horrible. Sorry...not really sorry. **

**Reviews are lovely and so are you. Thanks for reading. **


	2. Chapter 2

**So I've come back with another chapter for this because of a few requests. It really means a lot to me when you guys comment and want more, so here it is. Hope you enjoy!**

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**Dean's POV**

There's something wrong with me. Or maybe it's just my lungs. I can't be sure, I just know something's not working right. Everything's a little hazy and I think maybe I'm on my knees but I can't be sure because the room is spinning with about seven different shades of charcoal and red...lots of red. But it's a dark red, almost black. And it's seeping lazily from between my fingers and pooling steadily onto the floor and suddenly it's all I can see, all I can focus on...

"DEAN?!"

Maybe not _all_ I can focus on. Apparently my ears are still working, because I hear the voice I'd know anywhere, my name coated in panic as it falls from his screaming mouth and reverberates around the empty warehouse. That scream manages to finally cut through the fog and I suddenly understand the significance of all that dripping red.

I suddenly remember that my brother has just shot me.

The initial numbness wears off then and I'm lost in my own head as the agony takes over, slicing through my stomach right below my ribcage, effectively cutting off what little air I had left. It's then that I feel strong arms surrounding me, pulling me close. Collapsing readily into my little brother's familiar hold, I hear the soft hum of my name being whispered over and over again. I distantly sense Sam's searching hands as they comb across my torso, trying to find the place where the bullet has made its home.

A shrill cry climbs its way past my bloody mouth and echoes across the empty walls as Sam finally finds what he's looking for, pressing his trembling hands onto the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Somewhere in the far reaches of my mind, I know this is bad. Really bad. All I can see is that beautiful red. It's blended into the soft fabric of my shirt and it's the puddle that stains Sam's jeans and it's the color of the tears that fall from his eyes as he rocks me back and forth, whispering his terrified apologies, his every regret.

I want so badly to respond, to tell him it's all going to be okay, just like always, but all I can focus on is the pain and the soft voice in my head telling me to just let it all go. There's a dullness that pushes its way into my vision and I start to panic as Sam's face becomes a soft blur, even as he screams for me to stay awake.

"Dean you stay with me, you understand? Please man just hold on for me. Help is on the way I just need you to please...please..." Sam's words are soon reduced to a hitched sob that wracks through his body. I feel him shudder against me, every muscle shaking, as if it's him who's going into shock.

As if it's him with a bullet in his chest.

I struggle to stay conscious, pulled back from the brink each time I start to fade by Sam's desperate pleas. His fingers dig into the sleeve of my jacket, sharpening my senses when his nails find purchase all the way through to my skin.

I blink past the haze that shrouds my vision to find my little brother's tearstreaked face staring down at me.

"S...S'mmy?" I choke, my lips stained scarlet as the words tumble out, barely audible. "S'okay S'm. You're gonna be...okay. Jus...you nd Bobby...s'good. S'good..."

There's so much more I want to say to him, so much more I need him to know. But instead, the beginnings of shock have chosen this moment to consume me. My muscles stiffen as the cold sets in, burrowing into the deepest layer of my bones. Every shiver brings a new wave of agony with it, and I slam my mouth shut before another scream escapes from it. Sam is crying even harder now and I know it won't be much longer. The voice in my head is getting louder and harder to ignore, dripping with the promise of release.

"Please Dean...please no..."

Sam's voice cuts across the one in my head and I blink hard, battling the blackness that threatens to pull me away from him. For a moment I think I'm screaming again, and I bite down hard on my lip, drawing even more blood. But then I recognize the shrill ring of sirens approaching.

The next thing I'm aware of is more red. It's several shades lighter than the blood and and it sweeps repeatedly across Sam's blurry face in time with the blaring of the sirens that pound through my skull.

Help is finally here.

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**Alright I'm pretty sure this is the most I'm going to extend on this story. I really want it to be up to you whether or not Dean actually survives. Thanks for all your comments and reviews, and as always thank you for reading! **


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